


Only a Ghetto Pass Will Allow You Safe Passage

by sugargroupie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character of Color, Femslash, Fix-It, Gen, Humor, Meta, White Privilege
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-25
Updated: 2007-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-05 19:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugargroupie/pseuds/sugargroupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>What do you know about the meeting?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Only a Ghetto Pass Will Allow You Safe Passage

**Author's Note:**

> So, in S3 of SGA/S10 of SG-1 there was a crossover episode titled _The Pegasus Project_. In this episode, both the main characters of color of SGA were suspiciously absent, and the main CoC of SG-1 was off doing other things, mostly off-screen. This is my interpretation of why. A huge thanks to **ladyjax** for the beta, and for not telling me I was crazy for wanting to post this. Mistakes are all mine.

"Teyla!"

At the sound of her name, Teyla turns and waits for Lieutenant Lisa Whitaker to catch up.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," she says, a wide smile immediately spreading across her face.

"Good morning, how are you?"

"I am well. I was just on my way to meet Ronon for breakfast. Would you care to join us?"

Lisa shakes her head. "I can't, I have a mission in 30. Maybe next time?"

Teyla waits until a group of scientists pass them by before speaking. "Of course."

When Lisa covers her hand over her mouth to keep a yawn from escaping, Teyla guides her out of the way of traffic to a more private area of the corridor. She leans closer to the other woman, keeping her voice low. "I apologize if I kept you up later than usual last night. I was simply very... glad to see you, and I--"

Lisa lays a gentle hand on her arm. "Teyla, don't worry about it," she interjects, matching Teyla's tone. "You can wake me up like that any time you want. I wasn't complaining, was I?"

Lisa's grin is more than enough to silence the remains of Teyla's apology, and she smiles gratefully. "You spoke of many things, Lisa, but none of them were complaints," she teases.

The Lieutenant laughs, her brown face warming at Teyla's words, and her cheerful outburst garners the attention of several people walking the corridor.

Lisa shifts closer, allowing her hand to surreptitiously brush against Teyla's as she glances at her watch. "Listen, I have to go. But," she lowers her voice further, "is the meeting still scheduled for later?"

Teyla nods, gracefully shifting to the new topic of conversation. "Yes, I was able to secure the briefing room in the east tower with little trouble. It should provide us with the privacy we need."

"Good, I'll see you then."

Teyla inclines her head. "Very well. Good hunting, Lieutenant," she smiles, watching Lisa's advance to the gate room.

* * *

Teyla stands in the middle of the mess hall with tray in hand as her eyes search the crowd for Ronon. Finding him hunched over his food at a table in the far corner, she makes her way over, the previous conversation with Lisa still fresh in her mind.

"Good morning," she says, placing her tray directly across from Ronon and taking a seat.

He takes a big gulp of water then mumbles "Hey," before diving back into his food.

After taking a meaningful glance around her to make sure no one is in hearing distance, she says quietly, "Everything has been arranged for today's meeting."

Ronon stares at her as he chews, then gives a short nod. "Good. Your girlfriend gonna be back in time?"

Teyla looks up sharply from her food, narrowing her eyes at the half smile on his face. "I would advise you to watch your tongue. You do not know who may be listening."

"Who cares?" he shrugs.

"I do, for one," she hisses. "For another, while we may not be held to same standards of their military, Lieutenant Whitaker is." Taking a calming breath, she raises a hand to stem his response. "I am not saying I agree with their protocols, but there is a reason they are in place and I will do my best to respect those rules." This is not the first time they've had this conversation, but Teyla is starting to think that Ronon continues to make it an issue simply to annoy her.

She's always found his sense of humor strange in some ways, and vastly different from her own.

"Fair enough," he concedes, and she nods her thanks.

Minutes pass by in companionable silence when she feels him staring. "What?" she inquires, before eating a spoonful of her meal.

Ronon grins. "S'nothing. I just noticed that you didn't deny that she's your girlfriend."

Teyla chews her food slowly, wondering why the ancestors saw fit to bless her with Ronon's presence, and immediately dismisses the thought as unkind. She has enjoyed his friendship, and if nothing else, she has stretched the limitations of her patience by knowing him.

"Ronon," she warns.

"What?"

Rising from her seat, she smiles teasingly instead. "Why would I deny that which is the truth?" She picks up her tray to leave. "I will see you later."

His laughter follows her out of the mess hall.

* * *

After seeing off McKay and SG-1, Sheppard goes in search of the remaining members of his team. He turns a corner and runs right into a crowd of lab-coated scientists and military personnel, milling about as if they don't have jobs they should be doing.

"Hey, what's going on here?" he calls out to nobody in particular. He moves closer and cuffs the shoulder of the first marine he sees. "Why are you guys standing around?"

Barely glancing over his shoulder, the marine answers, "You know, the monthly meeting." Then he snickers, still not bothering to acknowledge Sheppard's presence. "As usual, we're on CP time."

John clears his throat, this time grabbing the marine by the shoulder and bodily turning him around. "What is CP time, and what the hell kind of meeting are you talking about?"

The officer stands up a little straighter, all traces of humor wiped from his face. For a moment John is reminded of Ford, but he quickly dismisses that trail of thought. "Sorry, sir, I was just joking around."

"That's all right, captain," John says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now, what meeting are you waiting for?"

John watches the marine fidget while trying to think of an answer. One subtle glance at his watch confirms that he has plenty of time to kill while waiting on an answer.

The marine opens his mouth and a voice sounding suspiciously like Ronon comes out instead. "Sheppard."

John turns around to see his Satedan teammate approaching, and the crowd parts like the Red Sea to give him room. _What is that about?_ John wonders.

"Hey, Ronon." John shifts his attention and is not surprised when the captain takes that as his cue to escape. Pointing in the general direction of the people milling around him, he asks, "You got any idea what's going on here? Captain Blake said there was a meeting of some kind."

Ronon glares, as he does with everyone. "What do you know about the meeting?"

"Uh... nothing really. That's why I'm asking you."

Ronon leans forward, lowering his voice. "There is no meeting."

Mouthing gaping open in surprise, John's arms drop to his sides. "But you just said--"

"Sheppard, I don't know what you're talking about." Ronon adopts a lazy smile as he leans back, crossing his arms comfortably across his chest. "I'll see you," he says, not giving John time to respond.

John watches his supposed friend walk away. "Damn it."

* * *

Elizabeth glances up from her tablet just as John walks into her office. She smiles. "Hey there, what's up?"

"Oh, nothing much, just getting the run around from some of our people."

"What do you mean?"

John perches easily on the edge of her desk and Elizabeth resists the urge to roll her eyes at his presumptuousness. "Do you know about a monthly meeting being held in the east wing conference room?"

Elizabeth mentally runs through her calendar, since there are no meetings that take place on Atlantis without her knowledge. "There aren't any scheduled. Where did you hear this?"

John shrugs. "Saw it with my own eyes. Or actually, I saw people gathering in the hall, like they were about to meet about something. I couldn't get a straight answer from anyone when I asked what was going on."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow at that. Interesting.

"And get this," John meets her gaze, "Ronon all but admitted to there being a meeting, then back-peddled when I asked him about it."

"That's strange," she admits.

"Tell me about it. I don't like it."

Elizabeth powers off the tablet and sets it down on her desk. Standing, she moves to her door, unconsciously waiting for John to join her before starting down pathway. "It could be harmless, John." At his sideways glance, she gives him a wry smile. "Surely you don't think they're meeting en masse for some sort of organized threat, do you?"

"Elizabeth," he scoffs. "It didn't look like the entire expedition was in attendance, but that's really besides the point."

She snorts in amusement.

"Don't mock me, 'Lizabeth. You'll see."

"Oh, I can't wait."

* * *

By the time Elizabeth and John arrive at the east wing conference room, the corridor is mostly empty, save a few people going about their normal day. Two marines stand sentry outside the double doors, both of them attempting to stifle their laughter.

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth says by way of greeting.

The soldier on her left is the first to regain his composure. "Doctor Weir," he replies with a short nod.

Elizabeth delves into her arsenal and rewards them both with her most diplomatic smile. "What's going on in there?"

The marines share a glance, no doubt having an entire conversation without blinking an eye.

The one on her right, Cervantes, finally speaks. "I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't divulge that information."

"You can't, or you won't?"

The marines share another look, and this time Elizabeth releases a sigh of impatience. "Neither?" Cervantes shrugs.

"Oh for cryin' out loud," John interjects from behind. Her shoulders his way past her until he's in the marine's face. "Do I need to make it an order, Lieutenant Cervantes?"

The one on her left speaks again. "You may have to, sir."

"Is that so?" There's an edge to his voice now, and she wonders if the soldiers standing before him have ever been on the receiving end of it.

Thinking it probably best to end things before it gets out of hand, she lays a hand on John's shoulder, says his name once and pauses until he tears his gaze away from Cervantes. When John finally backs away, she directs her attention once again to the marine on her left. "Captain Tan, why don't you call whomever is in charge of this meeting so we can get to the bottom of things, all right?"

Elizabeth's tone is anything but unpleasant, and she is certain the lieutenant knows that now is the time to concede. It's not in his best interest to test both leaders on this issue.

"Yes ma'am," he acquiesces, and touches his ear piece before speaking. "Attention, the elephant is in the room; I repeat, the elephant is in the room."

Elizabeth arches her brow. "Excuse me?"

"No offense, Doctor Weir," Cervantes says, "You are _fine_..." Elizabeth bites her lip to prevent a giggle from escaping. Simultaneous glares from Tan and John force Cervantes to quickly clarify, "What I mean is, it's just a code. Nothing to do with you personally."

"I understand, Lieutenant."

There's a knock from the other side of the conference room doors, and then one opens to reveal Teyla. Elizabeth is not entirely surprised, knowing how strong and capable a leader Teyla has shown herself to be on numerous occasions.

Teyla addresses them with a gentle smile. "Doctor Weir, Colonel Sheppard, what can I do for you?"

"Teyla," Elizabeth begins, "Is there a meeting scheduled? If so, I was not aware of one. And to be honest, I'm a little concerned at the secrecy."

"As would I, if our situations were reversed."

Teyla speaks quietly with Captain Tan, who nods and then taps his ear piece again, curving his palm over his lips while talking to who Elizabeth assumes are the occupants of the conference room.

"Elizabeth, may I speak with you?" Teyla glances subtly in John's direction before meeting Elizabeth's gaze. "Privately?" she amends.

"Of course."

The length of the wall opposite the conference room is the only privacy they are afforded, and so Teyla begins to speak quietly.

* * *

John is blatantly staring at Teyla and Elizabeth, and he refuses to pretend otherwise. Cervantes and Tan are back to sentry duty, which is a relief in its own way. Getting answers from them was like talking to... Ronon, actually. Under different circumstances he'd be proud that they hadn't buckled under pressure -- and threats -- from their commanding officer.

Screw different circumstances, he'd dole out a little payback later. For now, he's content to let Elizabeth work her magic, confident in her ability to find out just what in hell this meeting is about, and finally satisfy his curiosity. He was getting anxious not knowing.

He stands up straight when he notices a change in body language from the women. Elizabeth reaches out and grasps Teyla's hand tightly, her smile matching the other woman's. As they walk back, John is vaguely aware of Teyla's parting words, "Are we still to meet for a late dinner?", Elizabeth's confirmation, and "Goodbye, John," before the doors are closing behind her again.

"Let's go, Colonel."

He can't have heard that right. "Did I miss something? Don't we have a meeting to attend?"

"No, we don't," Elizabeth shakes her head, and it's hard not to notice her emphasis on the word 'we.'

"Elizabeth, if--"

"John," she admonishes. He's mostly learned that when she speaks with this particular tone of voice, his best bet is to shut up and listen. "Trust me, we are not needed at this meeting. Teyla is perfectly capable of running things."

"I know that, but that's really not the point."

"Really, then what is? Is it better to undermine what Teyla is trying to accomplish because you're too arrogant to relinquish control to someone else, someone you otherwise trust with your life?"

John licks his lips, realizing Elizabeth has a point. When put that way, there's no reason for him not to trust Teyla _or_ Ronon; the latter whom he's sure is an accomplice.

He opens his mouth to agree when he remembers that they've been in hearing distance of Cervantes and Tan. _I bet they're enjoying this_, he thinks. No matter. "All right, you've got a point. Just... promise me you'll tell me what's going on if it becomes a threat to this base?"

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, but there's a pleased look on her face. "You'll be the first to know," she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

John smirks. "That's all I ask."

* * *

Observing the conversation between their expedition leaders largely unnoticed, Cervantes and Tan share a look once the hallway is empty.

Tan breaks the silence with a tsk. "White man's burden."

"You ain't never lied," Cervantes laughs shortly.

* * *

Inside the conference room, chairs are gathered around the large table, and fill the remaining open space to the back at the wall. At the head of the table sits Teyla, and to her left Ronon.

Brown and yellow faces not unlike hers and Ronon's and Lisa's stare back at her; many of them who are now friends, and look to her for guidance in much the same way as her own people.

The occupants are getting restless while they wait, but Teyla is quick to reassure them. "I apologize for the delay. I am told that our guest speaker is lending his assistance in a matter against what appears to be a great threat to the people of Earth."

A rich voice suddenly fills the room, and Teyla breathes a sigh of relief. "That is correct, Teyla Emmagan, but we achieved a great victory today against the Ori, and as such, those efforts have allowed me to join you today."

"Teal'c, I trust that you are well?"

"Indeed. Shall we move forward with the meeting?"

Teyla nods and says, "We shall," for the benefit of the Jaffa warrior who can hear but not see her. She glances over to her right, where Lisa sits, before calling to official order the monthly Minorities of Atlantis meeting, secretly known as The Cabal.

"Lieutenant Whitaker, you may proceed with the minutes for the last meeting."

*

**Ref. notes**: mention of a [Ghetto Pass](http://witchqueen.livejournal.com/390111.html) in a meta post by [](http://zvi-likes-tv.livejournal.com/profile)[**zvi_likes_tv**](http://zvi-likes-tv.livejournal.com/).


End file.
